


Welcome to the 58th Presidential Games

by MLLudwa



Category: Hunger Games - Fandom
Genre: 2016 election - Freeform, Death, Hunger Games AU, Murder, Political AU, Political Campaigns, Political Commentary, Political Parties, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 10:27:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8620900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MLLudwa/pseuds/MLLudwa
Summary: Caesar Flickerman interviews the presidential games victor, Hillary Clinton. The two discuss the highlights of that year's games and how Hillary fought her way to victory. (Written before voting day)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this short story two weeks before the 2016 American presidential election. This is my take on the election and how cut-throat and brutal it was. Most pollsters and Americans thought there was no way Trump could win, which is why I wrote this story the way I did. I submitted this story for publication to a few journals, but I don't think it'll be picked up (but I don't have the heart or will to re-write it to show Trump as the victor- the thought alone makes me nauseous). So here it is...

 “ **Welcome to the 58 th Presidential Games**” – M.L. Ludwa

“ _Ladies and Gentlemen, your master of ceremonies, Caesar Flickerman_!” The voice bellows over the roaring sea of audience members, applauding and shouting against the blare of celebratory trumpets and drums. A bright, wide smile flashes across the face of the gentleman seated in the center of the stage. He rises and extends an arm towards the crowd, lifting a thin microphone to his curling lips with the other.  

“Welcome back to the 58th Presidential Games! I am very, _very_ pleased and honored to announce our new victor and Commander in Chief from this year’s games! This was a close one, wasn’t it folks?” The audience applauds and cheers as he releases a jovial laugh between his perfect, gleaming white teeth.

He turns and gestures to the side-stage, “Please join me in welcoming to the stage, fresh from the candidate arena, _President_ Hillary Clinton!”

The crowd erupts as the Madame President emerges confidently from the shadows. Stepping into the bright lights it becomes clear that she really has come directly from the arena; her ivory pantsuit is filthy and soiled with mud and grit. However, it is the sight of dried, crimson red blood cascading down from her lips to her ivory jacket that stirs the crowd into frenzy.

“Oh my,” Caesar’s smile staggers at the sight of her, yet he maintains his composure. “Normally our victors like to _freshen up_ before addressing the nation.” Hillary smiles and outstretches a blood-caked hand to him. There is still blood, and what could perhaps be hair and flesh, between her teeth. She remains unfazed as Caesar precariously shakes her hand.

“Thank you, Caesar. It’s great to be here,” she states as he gestures them towards the two plush chairs at the center of the lit stage. She waves warmly to the crowd and continues to smile through bloodied teeth. She points to and acknowledges unseen figures in the obscured audience before taking her seat across from her host.

The crowd grows silent as Caesar leans forward, “I would like to first begin by congratulating you on your unprecedented victory, Madame President. You were _quite_ impressive out there.”

Hillary nods and smiles. “Yes, thank you.” There is a broken twig and the fragment of a leaf tangled in her hair.

“When you consider that you first entered into these games as one of the least favored candidates, how do you feel now sitting here as the victor?”

“Well, Caesar, I had some pretty tough competition out there. But I have dedicated my life to the service of this nation and I believe I’ve attested to my mettle. I cannot wait to get out there and serve the people of the United States as their President,” Hillary responds with a widening smile, motioning again towards the audience as they cheered once again.  

“Yes,” Caesar extracts a set of cards from inside his jacket pocket, “Now, looking back on your road to victory, some candidates were more competent than others, is that correct? Let’s take Candidate Jeb Bush for instance-“

An enormous screen lowers from the towering ceiling behind them, projecting footage from the games with such clarity so that audience members even in the back could observe every detail. The footage shows each candidate standing motionless on their respective podiums, waiting for the countdown clock to announce the official start of the games.

“Oh yes, bless his heart,” Hillary says, frowning. “One step on the ground outside your podium before the canon and -” she motioned an explosion with her hands “- up you went.”

Caesar chuckles. “And up _he_ went! Let’s take a look!”

Jeb stands fidgeting on his podium and glances around to the other candidates. He glances up, back, and side to side, unsure of what exactly he, or anyone else for that matter, were waiting for. Unbeknownst to him, a clock is counting back from 60 seconds to sound a canon, announcing the beginning of the games. He offers a shrug and steps from his podium onto the loose dirt before a sudden, violent detonation engulfs him. His remains begin to descend with 15 seconds left on the clock.

“Poor bastard didn’t know what he was doing when he entered into the games, did he? Nice guy, but not the brightest,” Caesar shakes his head, wincing at sight of falling limbs and bits of torn flesh. “Now, as for your third-party candidates, they also met their demise quite early.”

The footage cuts to Jill Stein, splayed out on a bed of soft, green moss. Vomit spills from her pale lips as her vacant eyes peer at mushrooms lingering near her lifeless fingertips.

“It seems as though Jill Stein, in an attempt to commune with nature, died after consuming poisonous mushrooms,” Caesar sighs and flips to another card as the footage cut to a cliff-side scene. “And Gary Johnson, not at all being aware of where he was or what he was doing, accidentally walked himself off a cliff.”

The screen displays Gary Johnson, his gaze lifted to the skyline, walking aimlessly forward along a cliff’s edge. He appears distracted when he squints his bloodshot eyes against the bright rays of sunlight. His feet ultimately meet with a large rock embedding in the road. He tumbles forward and is unable to catch his balance before plunging over edge. The audience laughs at the sight of his crushed body strewn like a crushed insect across the rocky earth below.

“Now, many would say that your biggest competition in these games was fellow democrat, Bernie Sanders,” Caesar states, his voice growing somber and quiet. The audience lets out a sad, mournful cry at the image that now displayed across the screen: Bernie Sander’s body hung from a tree by the neck, swaying with the billowing wind. Caesar lifts a hand to silence the murmuring audience, his brow furrowing with grief. Hillary shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

He continues. “Now, Bernie refused to form alliances, is that correct? We often see parties forming alliances against the one another early on in the games.”

Hillary blinks away an eye twitch as she offers a thoughtful nod. “Yes, he claims to have not wanted anything to do with continuing with these norms. He tried to break out from the established traditions and make it on his own but, sadly…” She frowns and gestures at the image of his hanging body on the screen.

“It appears that he committed suicide and left behind a note. It read -” Caesar squints at the cards in his hands before continuing, “- ‘ _For the good of the Democratic Party’_.”

A trickle of boos and hisses seeps through the thick, tense air hanging above the audience. Hillary’s lips, still caked in dried blood, grows taut in an effort to smile.

“Now, many find it hard to believe that he willingly committed suicide for the sake of the Democratic Party, especially since he was a favorite among a considerable number of Americans. He received many sponsorship donations during his short time in the arena that eventually came to benefit you after his death. Some even go as far as to suggest that perhaps _you_ had a hand in it to make it seem like a suicide in order to win over his fans. Had you killed him in the open, his fans would have turned on you.”

“Yes, well-” Hillary’s smile falters as she shifts once again in her seat. “- There is nothing I can do to convince those whose minds have already been made up not to trust me. But what Bernie Sanders did in sacrificing himself and his donations to the Democratic Party was very courageous and patriotic. If it weren’t for his sacrifice, I would not have been able to defeat Trump in the end. It was a team effort and he will be remembered as a hero.” The crowd applauds and cheers, to which Hillary returns their praise with a blood-speckled smile and wave.

“Moving along, your Republican opponents sure had a hell of a time these games, didn’t they?” Caesar’s bright white smile beams as he laughs. He flips to his next card as the images of the republican candidate’s faces flash onto the screen:  Ben Carson, Chris Christie, Ted Cruz, Marco Rubio, John Kasich, and Donald Trump. Hillary doesn’t bother to glance back at their faces and instead continues to look forward to Caesar. “Obviously these six men banded together in the beginning against you. You were lucky to get away from them at the podiums after the first canon sounded! They were gunning for you right from the start.”

“Yes, but they did a fair job tearing _themselves_ apart for me, didn’t they?” Hillary replies.

Caesar laughs again. “That they did! After a few weeks in the arena, Chris Christie was the first to break from hunger and lashed out against Marco Rubio, whom he beat to death with a rock before eating him. All quite ugly, wasn’t it? And what were you doing while they were out there looking for you?”

“I was keeping my distance, of course. Always one step ahead of them. I knew that it was only a matter of time before they thinned themselves out, but what I _wasn’t_ expecting was for the last man standing to be Donald Trump,” Hillary replies.

“Ah, and what a strange turn of events that all was!” Caesar exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Hardly anyone took this man seriously during the beginning of the games. Let’s take a look at the pre-game interview with him, shall we?”

The footage flashes to Donald Trump, his leathery orange jowls hanging heavy from his face. His eyes squint against a light that does not appear to be bothering anyone but him, and his cracked lips purse together. His hands raise and sway as he speaks. “ _I have the best survival skills, the greatest. No one knows more about hand to hand combat and survival than I do, believe me. I’ve got tremendous plans, tremendous._ ”

Caesar shakes his head, dismayed. “And even after the games had begun, his sponsorship with the viewers plummeted after saying some pretty terrible things. Quote: _It’s a shame that Jill Stein was knocked off so early, I would’ve moved on her like a bitch. At least her tits still look good, for a dead broad_. And let’s not forget his ridiculous claim that the games were rigged because his sponsorships dried up!”

The audience boos and hisses.

“He was obviously an idiot,” Hillary laughs. “The man barely speaks at a fifth grade level, but I will give the man credit for manipulating that group the way he did.”

“That’s right, he truly did,” Caesar peeks down at his cards. “As the weeks went on we saw Trump instigate fights between the republican candidates, in essence pitting each man against one another. I’m sure you were aware of this happening?”

“To be honest, I knew there was tension but I didn’t know who would snap first or when.”

“I assume you’re referring to Ted Cruz and his massacre?” Hillary nods as the footage on the enormous screen cuts to a scene of a campfire lighting the night’s sky.

A dark figure hovers over lifeless forms tangled on the damp earth, a blood-drenched knife clutched tight in one hand. As he turns to peer over his shoulder, the glow of the fire dances across Ted Cruz’s face, illuminating his thin lips and shallow, beady eyes. The bodies of Chris Christie and John Kasich lie motionless at his feet, their mouths agape in their final moments of horror.

Seconds later a hammer swings down, cracking his skull open in one, thick blow. Cruz goes limp and buckles, collapsing over his victims. Ben Carson stands, uncertain and wide-eyed, with the hammer grasped in his trembling hands. Trump approaches and rests his petite hand on Carson’s shoulder.

“It was just a few moments after this scene that Trump thanked Ben for his support and saving his life from Ted Cruz, at which point Trump then used the same hammer to bludgeon Ben Carson to death.” Caesar slides the cards back inside his jacket and beams his pearly white smile at her. “And then it was just the two of you, Madame President.”

“Yes, that is when push came to shove.”

“Quite literally, actually. You and he had quite the time going at one another, did you not? Many failed attempts from the both of you to spring traps and ambushes on the other,” Caesar explained. “Now, there are many here that believe that Trump was receiving information via the sponsorship parachutes from Russia leader, Vladimir Putin, on your location throughout the area in order to meddle with the results. When pressed for further information on the matter, he responded, quote: ‘ _I don’t know Putin. He said nice things about me in the past though. If we got along well when I’m president that would be good_.” Hillary chuckles to herself and shakes her head. The twig resting her hair loosens from her thin blonde strands and falls onto her muddy lap.

Caesar continues. “It wasn’t long after that quote that you and he finally squared off with one another in the arena, isn’t that right? Can you walk us through what happened?”

“Of course,” Hillary nods agreeably. “I got tired of constantly dodging Mr. Trumps traps and ambushes and decided to challenge him head on, face-to-face. What’s funny is that as much bark as the man had, and as determined his tricks were to kill me, when faced head-on he was quite the coward. He tried running from me, begging for his life in the end.” She laughs.

“And when you challenged him, face-to-face, what happened next?”

Hillary smiles. “I tore his throat out with my teeth. I was tired of running, tired of the games. It had already been going on for so long…and strangling the incompetent fool would’ve taken too long. So, I ripped out his jugular.”

The crowd cheers, raising their hands towards the sky they clap their palms together and applaud. An image of Donald Trump, laid out across the grassy field of the arena, flashes onto the screen. His orange skin has grown pallid and slack, sagging over the lacerated, crimson flesh of his throat. His eyes are lifeless and gaze into the distance as the crowd roars on.

“When that final canon blast signaled the end of the games, making you the victor and next Commander in Chief, how did it feel?” Caesar asks.

“Oh, I can’t begin to explain how wonderful it all was,” Hillary’s bloodied teeth peeks out from behind her caked lips as she smiles.

“And what message would you like to send to those who stand against the United States? Perhaps Mr. Putin, in his alleged maneuver to tamper with the games?”

Hillary’s smile wanes and she grows serious. The crowd’s cheers calm and grow quiet as they watch her. Her eyes lift and meet with Caesar’s, whose own smile now falters at her cold gaze. “You know, I made a point to not freshen up following my victory in the arena this evening. And that is because I want our citizens, allies, and enemies to know what I did to make it to this stage.” She turns her gaze over the silent crowd. “This sight you see before you _is_ the message I’d like to send to our enemies. I will not hesitate in tearing your throat out with my bare teeth, if that is what it takes to win.”

The audience is stunned, silent. Caesar clears his throat and fidgets uncomfortably in his seat. “I-Is there anything else you’d like to say to the citizens of the United States before end this interview, Madame President?”

Hillary smiles. “God bless you, and may God bless the United States of America.”


End file.
